


This love is alive back from the dead

by That_Ginger_004



Series: Bellarke One-Shots [14]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Cuties, Everyone knows that they're in love, Except for each other, F/M, M/M, of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 13:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3121430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Ginger_004/pseuds/That_Ginger_004
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wasn’t exactly sure when she realized they were in love - probably around the time that Clarke had thrown herself at Bellamy. It was the way they held each other, she thought. He had held her as though she was the very universe itself, and she looked as though every bit of tension in her body was gone; as though her bones themselves recognized his touch. </p><p>In which everyone knows that they're in love apart from themselves. Idiots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This love is alive back from the dead

**Author's Note:**

> So hi there. I'm super nervous cause my exam results come out in like a week, and I really need the credits and ahhh. So stress writing. Yay. It's sorta depressing in some places, I guess. The title is taken from the chorus of Taylor Swift's song This Love. It is a brilliant song and I highly recommend it. Also it reminds me so much of these two idiots. Anyway, please leave your thoughts in a comment, along with any improvements and/or criticism, and as always, thanks for reading :3

_**Octavia** _

 

Octavia was observant. She knew her brother, and she knew his moods. She knew when he was happy, or sad, upset, angry or annoyed. And God, she knew when he was in love.

She wouldn’t be surprised if she realized before him, actually. She saw the way he leant into Clarke, and the way his face lit up when she came near. She saw how his eyes sparkled when she spoke, and how he based his actions off hers.

(It wasn’t long after that she realized that maybe Clarke based hers off Bellamy’s as well.)

There were some things she just knew about her brother - he was angry with their mother for having her, even though he’d never ever admit it; he was selfless; charming; he would tear apart the world to protect her. She knew exactly how many freckles there were on his right cheek, she knew the precise shade of brown his eyes were, she knew that he bit his lip when he was stressed. And she knew he was in love with Clarke Griffin, even if he didn’t know it himself.

The thing about love, she thought, was that it found you when you were least expecting it. She saw the way he looked at her, and she knew that it was bound to happen - she knew it even when they first landed on Earth. When Clarke warned Bellamy not to open the doors, and he threw her warning aside, it was as though fate was laughing at them. Their very first meeting pitted them as rivals, yet they became so much more. So much more than rivals.

They were leaders; friends. They had first one hundred, then forty seven youngsters looking for their lead, and Octavia was so proud of the man Bellamy had become. And she knew that he couldn’t have done it without Clarke. She knew he relied on her, and that he would be lost without her, and that he loved her. Plain as day. The fact was simple - Bellamy Blake was a leader, and he was in love with Clarke.

(It was much later that she realized that Clarke was in love with her brother as well)

(If only they’d tell each other)

  


*

 

_**Raven** _

 

Raven wasn’t blind. Sure, she couldn’t use her left leg, but she wasn’t blind. She saw how Clarke looked at Bellamy, and she’d never seen that look on her face with anyone else. It portrayed love, and protection, and an unspoken promise. It showed the sort of affection that was rarely found, and should be treasured at all cost.

(Finn had looked at her like that once.)

Theirs was a dangerous type of love; one that would start wars or end the world, but she couldn’t see them having any other type of love. She knew that Clarke lived for too long thinking that she had killed Bellamy, and that he had spent too long unsure of if she’d survived or not.

She wasn’t exactly sure when she realized they were in love - probably around the time that Clarke had thrown herself at Bellamy. It was the way they held each other, she thought. He had held her as though she was the very universe itself, and she looked as though every bit of tension in her body was gone; as though her bones themselves recognized his touch.

She’s seen them talking at a table a few nights later about rescuing their kids from Mount Weather, seen the way Bellamy had looked determined and Clarke had looked like she was planning a way into hell itself. She’d heard them talking about how stupid the council was and she couldn’t agree more, but then Clarke had said;

_“You won’t be alone,”_

And it was as good as a confession. Because he’d never be alone, not as long as Clarke lived. Raven knew that. And she knew that Clarke would never be alone either - because as long as she loved Bellamy, he loved her as well.

(She would bet her one good leg on it.)

 

*

 

_**Lexa** _

 

The sky people were odd. But, despite their oddities, they were definitely still human. Some of them would even make good warriors - their leader, Clarke, and perhaps the one she loved as well. Lexa was impressed by the way Clarke had walked straight into their camp without fear; had pressed herself against Indra’s spear in a heartbeat. She was a strong leader, and a fierce fighter.

She had noted the way her co-leader watched her every move when she entered their camp. She’d seen the way his eyes flickered with fear when the spear pierced her skin - even from a distance it was possible to feel the worry radiating off him. There was something there, she knew. Something small, something they were denying, but it was still there. You’d have to be blind to miss it.

To miss the way that Clarke had looked over at him, and the way he’d stilled when she had kissed the one they called Finn. And then, when she had killed Finn, it struck her once more how brave their princess was. Not just anyone would walk into enemy territory and kill one of their own - even if it would prevent hours of suffering. To have that many hostile people surrounding you - it took guts. And their leader definitely had guts. Lexa would give her that.

 _“It is done."_ she had said.

And it was. Blood must have blood, as was her way, and the blood had been repaid. She just wished that there could have been another way; that she wasn’t the leader of her people, the cause of so much pain and suffering. The agonising cries of a girl from the sky people’s camp would haunt her dreams for weeks to come - but it wasn’t nearly as frightening as the stoic look on Clarke’s face, or the way she held herself rigid when comforting hands went to help her when she got back to her camp.

(It wasn’t nearly as frightening as the look on Bellamy’s face either - one that promised a lifetime of pain and misery for the person that hurt Clarke.)

And suddenly Lexa was afraid - even though she knew it was stupid, and she had the best guards that were on offer. But she was afraid of Bellamy, and the look he wore when Clarke crumpled into his arms.

For theirs was a love that would tear apart the world to be together; theirs was a love that was only written about; and theirs was a love so strong that it would break the even the strongest of walls.

(She ignored the little voice in her head that told her how easy it would be to break them now that she knew that.)

 

*

 

**_Abby_ **

 

Abby Griffin knew her daughter. It came as no shock to her when she realised that she was in love with Bellamy, but that didn’t mean she approved. Bellamy was wild; uncontrollable; a loose canon. He was reckless, impulsive, and possibly the worst person on the planet she could think of for her daughter.

(She refused to see that they balanced each other out perfectly.)

But in the weeks after Clarke killed Finn, Bellamy proved to be a valuable asset. He could get Clarke to sleep when no one else could, and he could chase away her nightmares with only a few words.

(It had taken her almost an hour to sooth her once.)

She didn’t like Bellamy, and that was no secret. But she would never do anything to hurt him - because hurting him would mean hurting Clarke, and she’d caused her daughter enough pain for a lifetime.

Then again, she thought, she wouldn’t be able to separate them even if she tried. She could put them on opposite sides of the ocean, or have one of them sent to space; she could build a wall several miles high between them, or even have one of them killed - it wouldn’t make any difference. They would find a way to get back together, even if it meant dying along the way.

(She was in love like that once.)

(And then it all fell to pieces.)

_(Jake.)_

 

*

 

_**Kane** _

 

_“You can give us help or not. Either way, we’re going to get them,”_

Clarke and Bellamy stood strong, a formidable force - he’d hate to disappoint them. But he couldn’t give them guards, they simply didn’t have the manpower.

_“I can’t help you. But I also can’t tell you that there’s going to be a section of the fence with the power turned off behind the Ark tonight,”_

Surprise flickered over their features, and he sighed.

(Really, how much more obvious could it get?)

They were so in tune with each other, so dependant on the other to fulfil their needs. They were just so… _young_. He had been young once; he had been in love. He still was, if he was going to be honest with himself.

He looked at Clarke, and he saw Abby. He saw Abby in the stubborn set of her jaw, and the defiant look in her eyes. He saw her in her splendor; in her glory. He saw Abby, and he loved her. And he looked at Bellamy and he saw himself.

He saw himself reflected in the boy’s very soul. He saw the way that he was in love with Clarke, and he saw that he was just as reckless as he had once been.

(He just hoped that the boy was smarter than him.)

(He hoped that he’d tell her.)

 

*

 

_**Dante** _

 

The more he thought about Clarke, the more obvious it became. She left, not because she didn’t feel safe, or she didn’t trust him, but because she was missing something - some _one_. She’d asked him about her people; about the others - and yes, he did feel slightly bad for leaving the girl with blood pooling out of her stomach - but she was asking about a boy. And he hadn’t seen any boy there.

He knew about missing someone. He knew, and he understood. He understood that she had no choice but to leave. He realized that she wasn’t acting for her own needs, but for the needs of another person.

He’d asked Jasper about the people that he hadn’t been able to get, and the young boy looked slightly wistful when he replied.

 _“Bellamy,”_ he’d said. _“And Finn.”_

Jasper had explained that Bellamy had lead them along side Clarke, and that he was fiercely protective of them. Dante had prodded around, and come to the conclusion that Clarke was in love with him.

She had to be - why else would she have left? This boy, this Bellamy, he was the reason why Clarke had left. Even though she didn’t know if he was alive or not, she had to find out. Dante admired that, he really did.

The camera’s they had watching their people’s camp showed when Clarke arrived back to them. He watched, certain that she’d reunite with Bellamy - and he wasn’t disappointed. He saw her desperate dash across the camp, and the way she’d flung herself at the boy - more of a man, really. He saw the way she had held him, and the way he had responded.

They were more than friends. They were in love. And nothing would hold them apart for long.

(Even he could see that.)

 

*

 

_**Jasper** _

__

He realized it too late. Clarke and Bellamy had come with only three other people - some man he didn’t recognise, Miller’s dad, and Murphy. _Murphy!_ What was with that?

(Where was Raven? And Octavia?)

Surprisingly enough, it had gone smoothly inside the compound. They had escaped through the tunnels, and they were out in the open when it all went to shit.

There was people firing guns every which way, and they were running through the trees, the unfamiliar man and Miller’s dad leading them, Bellamy, Clarke and Murphy defending them from the back. They had almost made it; they could see the camp through the trees, when there was an agonising cry. He’d spun around, terrified for Monty, and had seen Clarke crumpling to the ground, blood pooling out of a wound in her abdomen.

 _“Clarke!”_ he had yelled.

Everything was in slow motion; the people running around him, the Mountain men shooting, Murphy shouting at him to keep moving. But he was frozen to the spot. Clarke was lying there, and she was bleeding, and Bellamy was picking her up, and looking at her in such a way that made his heart throb and- _why did he not realize it earlier?_

But the world was ending; everything was over. Clarke Griffin was dying, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Then they were through the gates, and Clarke was being placed on a operating table, and Bellamy was refusing to let go of her hand, which would have been a problem, but Clarke whispered _“Stay,”_ and everything was so blindingly clear.

They were in love. They were so clearly, obviously, _desperately_ in love.

(And she was dying, damn it.)

(Why did such love stories always end with tragedy?)

 

*

 

**_Jackson_ **

 

Abby’s hands were steady as she operated on her daughter - as they always were. But Jackson knew that her mind was anything but.

The way her face paled when Bellamy carried Clarke into the camp said everything - and as it should. No parent should ever have to operate on their child.

Abby had made the mistake of trying to order Bellamy out of the operating room - only to hear her daughter feebly protest. So he stayed, holding Clarke’s head between his hands and whispering soothing words into her ears as the surgery pulled screams out of her throat.

Jackson saw the way his face looked stricken, and how he looked as though her pain was his pain. It was obvious to see the way he felt about her - and it looked simple. It looked so simple; like the way you breathed. It looked like he was so _certain_ in his love for her, like it came as naturally as the rain fell.

He envied Clarke, if he was honest. He longed to have someone love him as surely as Bellamy loved her - absolutely and without fail. Hell, he longed to _love_ someone that way, let alone to be loved that way.

(Maybe someday.)

(Maybe.)

 

*

 

_**Murphy** _

 

Murphy wasn’t an idiot. He was reckless, yes. Impulsive and slightly narcissistic, yes. But he was also smart. He saw things that other people missed - the little things. They often told a story invisible to the normal eye - and Bellamy was no different.

He saw how the other boy camped outside the medical tent. He saw how he refused to move - even at night, he slept there. He barely ate, or spoke, and when Raven parked herself next to him, he didn’t even acknowledge her. It was almost scary - how his very existence depended on the fragile life in the tent behind him.

Murphy respected Bellamy. He didn’t much like him, but he respected him. But in this moment, he realized that despite how robotic their leader could be some times, he was still human. He still had needs. And Clarke Griffin being safe and alive accounted for several of those needs. If this was the way he acted with her life in danger, how would he react if she ever died?

(No one deserved this type of pain.)

(No one.)

Then she woke up, and it was like watching life being breathed into a puppet. He hovered around her; followed her around the camp like a lost puppy. It was endearing, he supposed, but he would personally find it annoying. Clarke didn’t seem to care though - he thought he saw her slip into Bellamy’s tent a few times at night.

It was just - God, they were so _stupid_ , and he wanted to push them towards each other, because they were so _in love_ it hurt to watch. But he did nothing, because it wasn’t his place. And maybe he was smart, but he was also kind of a jerk as well - especially to the pair of them.

(He regretted trying to kill Bellamy.)

(Really. He did.)

 

*

 

_**Monty** _

__

It had been one month since they escaped Mount Weather. One month since Clarke got shot saving their lives. Three weeks since she had woken up. _Three weeks._ Three long weeks of watching Bellamy pad around after her. Three long, _terrible_ weeks. Monty saw the way he looked at her, and he knew that look. He looked at Jasper the same way.

 _Jasper_ \- God, Monty wished he could tell him. It had hurt, in Mount Weather, seeing him with Maya, but Monty had long since come to terms with the fact that Jasper would never love him. Not the way he wanted to be loved. Not the way that Bellamy loved Clarke - or, for that matter, the way Clarke loved Bellamy.

They were so hopeless about it though - so very hopeless. He’d left the camp to finally be rid of them and their persistent stupidity.

(If you could call love stupidity.)

Anyway. So he was in the forest, cleared to check for herbs, and finally alone. _Alone. Finally._ Of course, that was when he heard the laughter. It was light, and free, and possibly the most beautiful sound he’d heard in a long, long time. So he headed towards it, as if he was in a trance. Then upon seeing the source, he ducked behind a nearby tree, hidden from view.

It was Clarke. She wasn’t supposed to be out of the camp borders - her mother forbade it. So he was wondering what she was doing out there, when he saw Bellamy. He was smiling - an honest to god, cheek splitting smile, one Monty had barely ever seen him wearing. His arm was carefully placed around Clarke, helping her balance on a log. Even so, she was still shorter than him, but maybe it was better that way.

Maybe it was purposeful, so that he could still lean down and kiss her. It was so simple; so easy, and Monty felt like he was intruding on something extraordinarily private. But he couldn’t stop staring, and thinking. Thinking that actually maybe they weren’t so hopeless. And thinking that maybe things could work out - after all, if these two idiots could figure something out, he was sure that he could.

(He was one of the smartest in his class.)

(But not smarter than Jasper. Never smarter than him.)

(Never smart enough to see the signs; to see that Jasper was just as much in love with him as Monty was with him.)

(Never smart enough.)

(Never.)


End file.
